1275 Minnesota St /
Rena Bransten Gallery
Rena Bransten Gallery is pleased to present a selection of paintings from the last two decades by San Francisco based artist John Bankston. Deeply committed to expanding access to the Black imaginary, Bankston’s work provokes and entices as he suggests abstracted narratives through queer fantasy characters on their quests through the personified landscape of the Rainbow Forest.
Bankston’s paintings are influenced by the visual language of coloring books, replete with recuring protagonists and locations. In his work, deep psychological and social issues are brought forth through eccentric characters often seen in costume – masks and animal suits – perhaps referencing group dynamics, personal identity, and the challenge of belonging both in nature and in society. Inspired by the many people and mini dramas encountered on his daily bus trips from home to studio, its own form of theater, Bankston’s unique sense of storytelling through art continues to be at the center of his practice. Paramount to this practice is the desire to create an inclusive version of the ubiquitous coloring book experience and allow all viewers an entry point to his stories.
“When I was growing up, I saw very few African Americans of any sort in coloring books. Using a coloring book is something we all have in common. It's our first experience as visual creators. Coloring books reinforce accepted notions about how individuals are to be in society when they're adults. I hope my work sparks viewers to interrogate seemingly benign elements of our culture.” —From an interview with Sura Wood for the Bay Area Reporter (2012)
“Cloaked in the nostalgia of childhood, Bankston’s work defers to some imaginary time when race and sexuality were free of sociopolitical angst. For all the black children (myself included) who had trouble deciding how characters in coloring books ought to be colored, Bankston’s images dispel the anxiety associated with race-based identification as it was enforced in preschool and later internalized.” —Hamza Walker for Artforum (2002)